Surreal: Having the disorienting, hallucinatory quality of a dream.

10:15 PM - Monday

This was surreal. It could only be a dream because it was way too bizarre to be anything else. This kind of stuff only happened in movies like one of Tony's stupid cult classics; or unforgettable westerns. Just NOT in real life! NO! It was those stupid, relentless movie references that had brought this whole thing about to begin with! Tony and his never ending, weird need to always spend his time trying to emulate some actor from a scene in the movies that he couldn't go a day without living in. Then, when the whole world turned on its head and shook them all mercilessly and without warning, they stopped…

Pacing. Endless pacing mixed with boundless worry and anger so hot that it threatened to burn the whole damn place to the ground now as it steadily built. The relentless, deepening fear while the waiting continued, fueled his every step and even the endless supply of anger driven questions that rang through his mind of their own accord added fuel to the inferno burning in his soul.

How could something so stupid happen right under his nose?

What the hell had the guy been thinking? What the hell was WRONG with that kid?

How the hell could anybody survive something like this?

So many questions permeated through the images of the past few hours but there was one that truly tugged at his heart; one question that he couldn't answer…

Will things ever be the same again?

***NCIS***

6:45 AM - Three and a half hours earlier

"Good morning, Gibbs." Ziva greeted as she entered the squad room and settled in behind her desk fifteen minutes before the start of the work day. The Boss was already sitting behind his desk working through a file and his grunted greeting made her shake her head with a small smile. Seeing Tim walk in from the back of the room, she greeted him as well. "Good morning, McGee."

"Morning, Ziva." Tim returned cheerfully as he sat down with his coffee and Danish that he'd just brought from the break room.

Fifteen minutes later and Ziva had just finished going through her own email. She glanced up and grinned at the sight of Tim perusing his own emails while listening to his voicemails off his desk phone simultaneously.

"How do you do that?" Ziva asked him curiously. It was a well known joke that men couldn't multitask, but Tim was a completely different story.

Through the loud 'ding' of the arriving elevator, Tim smiled in response needing to listen to what he was hearing, but he did stop his typing for the moment, turning to her when he could put his phone down at last. "It took me a long time to get the hang of it, Ziva."

"Get the hang of what, Probie?" Tony asked as he sauntered into the squad room, throwing his bag down on the floor before quickly sitting down at his desk.

"You're late." Gibbs pointed out to his Senior Field Agent without even looking up from his work as he spoke for the first time since Ziva's arrival in the squad room.

"Sorry, Boss." Tony offered quickly.

"Don't…"

"Apologize, I know, Boss. Won't happen again."

"I know. Cold cases DiNozzo! But clean out that filing cabinet, first. It's not a wardrobe!" Gibbs issued the orders as he snatched up his coffee cup and headed out for a refill of his ever present caffeine.

"Great, just great." Tony mumbled before turning to see Gibbs standing right behind him. He couldn't help but wonder how the guy did that, and nodded. "On it, Boss." He waited till Gibbs had really gone before turning towards his next target. "Hey, Probie, seen any good movies lately?" Tony taunted as he sidled up to Tim's desk with a sly grin.

"No, Tony. Besides, whatever movie I might have seen, wouldn't pass your critique, so why would I tell you about it anyway?" Tim asked pointedly as he kept his attention firmly on his computer screen.

"C'mon, Probie! Didn't you watch any of the 'The Duke' this weekend during the John Wayne movie marathon on the Classic Westerns Channel?"

"No." McGee answered dully with a small sigh. He could pretty much predict what was coming next and braced himself for the pointless movie trivia montage that was sure to ensue.

"NO! What did you do all weekend Elf Lord? Play your on line games and pretend you're the hero of the hour? The Duke was a man's man, Probie. He's worthy of our respect." Tony huffed.

McGee's next sigh was loud and annoyed. "No, sorry, I just don't share your enthusiasm for it, DiNozzo. Believe it or not, I have better things to do with my weekends."

"Sorry don't get it done, Dude." Tony answered in his best John Wayne accent. "John T. Chance, Rio Bravo!"

"Oh! Or this one." Tony stood with his feet apart and his head tilted to the side as he continued on undaunted by Tim's lack of enthusiasm "A lot of guys make mistakes, I guess, but every one we make, a whole stack of chips goes with it."

"We make a mistake, and some guy don't walk away - forevermore, he don't walk away." Tony's smile lit up the room, "Sergeant John M. Stryker, Sands of Iwo Jima."

McGee answered with a shake of his head and a clipped "Seems a little overacted to me."

"'I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted, and I won't be laid a hand on. I don't do these things to other people and I expect the same from them.' John Bernard Books, The Shootist"

"Tony…." McGee started to throw out yet another objection with a heavy sigh knowing that it would soon be run roughshod over by the over-excited class clown aka Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo...Tim huffed a small laugh at the mental sarcasm that spat the word 'very' out in his mind.

"Jeez McDukehater, you haven't even heard some of the best ones yet. 'Well, there are some things a man just can't run away from.' Ringo Kid, Stagecoach or this one, 'I don't guess people's hearts got anything to do with a calendar.' Hondo Lane, now that was one cool dude."

"Tony…" Tim reached up and started to massage his temples because if Tony carried on the way he was, this was going to be a long day.

"'All battles are fought by scared men who'd rather be someplace else.' Capt. Rockwell Torrey, In Harm's Way."

Gibbs returned to his desk after settling for a cup of the crap they called coffee from the break room. As he walked in, he heard a little of what Tony was taunting Tim with and shook his head but something stirred deep in his gut as he sat down and he couldn't help the feeling of uneasiness that settled there; it was a feeling that something bad was about to happen to his team but he couldn't quite put his finger on it because come on, they were still at NCIS. What could possibly happen to them there?

"Tony."

Gibbs shook his head but smiled to himself at annoyed tone coming from Tim. He just knew that the younger man was gritting his teeth and if experience had taught him anything over the years as the head of this crew, it was that the kid could finally give as good as he got with Tony. Tim McGee wasn't the green Probie anymore and had grown into someone that Gibbs was proud to call his agent, just as the boss had anticipated way back when.

"Oh, oh this is my favorite one of all. 'This kind of war, you've gotta believe in what you're fighting for.' Colonel Madden, Back to Bataan." Tony prattled on as he opened his desk drawer with one hand while reaching to pick his weapon up off his desk with the other. It was a ritual with them all, that when they came in, they locked their weapons away in their drawers for safe keeping until they were needed.

"Tony!" Tim exclaimed angrily as he turned in his chair and glared at the Senior Field Agent. "Enough! Alright? Jeez!"

"You know, McWhiney" Tony said. "You just can't handle ..."

BOOM!

The deafening sound of a gunshot resounded through the squad room drowning out all other noise and causing more than a few of the early birds to drop down behind their desks.

"Oh, God. Boss I'm…I…God I'm so sorry." Tony profusely apologized as he stared at his weapon with wide eyes and a shocked expression on his face. The offending gun was now sitting innocuously on the floor after slipping from Tony's grasp .

Gibbs glared dangerously at his Senior Field Agent and rose angrily from his chair, standing ramrod straight and statuesque with sheer fury as he barked out, "DiNozzo! Why the hell wasn't the damn safety on that thing?"

"McGee!" Ziva cried out as she ran to the ashen faced figure of her teammate. She had briefly been distracted by Gibbs yelling at Tony, but when she looked over to Tim, she saw the blood drain out of his face and saw his green eyes glazed over with pain. She barely reached him as he toppled from his chair but caught him before he could fall into a boneless heap on the floor. He'd lost a of weight over the past couple of years, but he was still bigger than Ziva and he very nearly took her down with him.

The newest Probie of the team managed to ease her teammate's descent to the floor before looking at his pain strewn face once more. She placed a hand on his clammy, cold cheek and knew that shock had started to set in.

"GIBBS!" Ziva desperately called out. She had no idea if the boss had actually seen what had happened but she wasn't taking that chance and needed his help now.

"McGee…Tim. Are you alright? Tim, can you hear me?" Ziva asked quietly but all she got a hitch of his breath and a short shake of his head. His face contorted with sheer agony and she glanced down to see his white shirt already crimson red in a large circle. It was steadily becoming larger by the minute but what scared the second most stoic member of the team, was that the blood pouring through was right over his heart.

"Get Ducky!" Gibbs barked out from right beside her, where he'd quickly stepped over to his fallen agent to help. He gently supported Tim's frame and asked her to scoot back so that they could lay him flat and between them, they managed to get him into better position to do what had to be done. Gibbs whipped round and opened the bottom drawer so he could grab one of the shirts Tony kept in there. With a narrowed eye towards the offending agent, he pushed down on Tim's wound and applied the pressure that was needed. "Easy Tim. I know it hurts, but I gotta do this…Ziva, call 911!"

All the panicked, raised voices drowned out the pain filled moan from their wounded colleague. Tim was now fighting for every agonizing breath he took as Gibbs continued to apply pressure on his wound to stem the bleeding as best he could.

"Ducky! Need you up here, NOW!" Tony yelled into the phone, too panicked and upset to worry about the tone or volume of his shaky voice. Gibbs glanced up briefly at his senior agent and shook his head at the way he was pacing with his phone to his ear. Ziva swore in Hebrew and started to tap Tim's face because his eyes had just barely opened and closed so quickly she'd almost missed it.

"No you don't. Come on Tim. Open your eyes for me. Easy now, you can do it." Gibbs urged firmly and increased the pressure to the wound hoping that the pain would keep his agent awake. "Let me see that you're still with us, Tim."

Tim's eyes fluttered and finally opened and looked at the older man. "B...oss. Zi…wha…? Tim manged to croak as he grimaced and shifted as if trying to get away from the pain.

"Attaboy, McGee. Stay with me, alright? I know it's hard, but you gotta try." Gibbs offered him what he hoped was enough encouragement to keep Tim with him. He made sure to hold the young man's gaze so that his fallen agent could focus on him rather than the pain.

"Try." Tim offered through a ragged breath and squeezed his eyes shut when the pain doubled for his efforts.

"Don't even think of leaving us, McGee. You don't have permission to die. Not gonna happen, McGee. Do ya hear me?" Gibbs order was stern enough to be taken seriously, but still held a note of gentleness that didn't make it seem harsh. He wanted Tim to know that he wasn't going anywhere.

"K." Tim's eyes fluttered closed as his breathing hitched and the pain that was etched in those young, boyish featured seemed to leech away when his head fell sideways.

"No, McGee! Stay with me!" Gibbs insisted sternly as he applied a touch more pressure, earning him another pain filled groan from the young man.

"That's it, Tim. Stay with me. I know it hurts, but we gotta stop the bleeding." Silence greeted his explanation and Gibbs swore loudly through his teeth. "NO! McGee! Wake up! Where the hell is Ducky and the paramedics?"

Ziva closed her cell phone with shaking hands and knelt back down beside Gibbs. "The ambulance is on the way." She turned and stood up to start clearing the way for medical team and Ducky "Tony, get some water." She suggested firmly as she opened her own and poured the liquid on a hand towel she kept in her desk. She leaned over her fallen teammate, quickly applying the now saturated towel to his forehead to try and provide some kind of soothing comfort by way of keeping him cool in the warm squad room.

"Ziva, he's going into shock and his body temp will drop." Gibbs said quietly and glanced up to see the worry about the error she had made. "I know it's warm in here, but he's losing blood. Keep that towel there, but grab my coat."

Ziva stood up and rushed over to where Gibbs kept his long, warm coat and hurried back. With a nod of encouragement from her boss, she draped the coat over Tim's still form and knelt back down next to Tim. "Tim, please hold on. You have chased down criminals and escaped injury, do not die from being somewhere safe."

Tony remained frozen in place, guilt and anguish clearly etched across his face. His eyes were glassy with tears he couldn't' hold back. He'd just shot his partner! Stepping back, he watched as one of the adjacent teams came over, took the offending weapon from the floor and placed in an evidence bag, sealing and signing it properly and then set about cordoning off the area. Everything they did was by the book but Tony knew it wasn't a slight against him, but simple procedure that had to be followed. Any accidental discharge of a fire arm has to be investigated. They all knew what to do and it was, in fact, a testament to their devotion to taking care of each other within the agency that they were acting so quickly to handle it professionally before the dust had even settled on the incident.

Unfortunately, incidents like this happened more than most law enforcement agencies ever admit to, but not all of them end with such heartbreaking results. It was one of the reasons that the way in which it was dealt with was paramount to the fairness and thoroughness of the investigation and whatever publicity would come from it. Even though Tony's mind was currently clouded with guilt and disbelief, it somehow filtered these random thoughts in as he watched what was going on.

He was starting to feel cold and shaky himself, but this wasn't the time and so he seemed to detach himself from his own feelings and watched the events unfold through what seemed like someone else's eyes. It was as if he was a stranger watching a movie scene unfold because this didn't happen in the real world. Partners don't shoot each other in the safe haven of their own office…well obviously they did because right now he was watching his Probie…no, his friend…fight for life because he'd been too dumb to check the safety and stop riling Tim with stupid movie quotes that held no meaning or importance.

The elevator dinged and Gibbs looked up to see Ducky and Jimmy hurrying through the squad room so that they could help. Both of them, professionally navigating their way through the chaos and quickly getting to work on Tim as Gibbs backed away just far enough to give them the space to work. Watching as the two medical professionals worked together to stem the flow of blood that had refused to stop, Gibbs struggled to his feet, his eyes never leaving the face of his fallen agent whose pallor was ghostly white. He breathed out a sigh of relief when Tim's lax face scrunched up in agony once more because if his boy was awake, then he was alive no matter how much pain he was in. He could deal with that; what he couldn't deal with was losing another one of his kids. Not like this. Not now. Not ever.

Ziva remained kneeling at Tim's shoulder as she firmly held his hand, while her other hand continued to wipe his face with the moistened towel. She kept her voice soft but constant in an effort to keep him focused and with them. She hoped that her words soothed him slightly, but deep down she just knew that they would probably have no effect on the way he was feeling. She wasn't even sure he could hear her; or at least she didn't when a gentle squeeze of her hand reminded her that she was so caught up in her thoughts that she'd stopped talking. She smiled softly at Tim and sighed.

"I am sorry. Do not give up, McGee. We are right here with you. We will get you taken care of and you will be just fine in a few days, all right?"

Tim groaned painfully and forced himself to open his eyes to find his boss' clear, blue eyes gazing down at him. Gibbs had kept himself in Tim's line of sight just in case he opened his eyes and needed something to ground him. "Sorry….B..oss."

"Save your strength, Timothy. You are struggling to breathe so please don't talk." Ducky urged soothingly and quickly glanced at the team leader. Gibbs nodded his agreement and the M.E. glanced at Tim while taking his blood pressure. "Besides, you have nothing to be sorry for dear boy. This is not your fault."

"Ducky's right, McGee." Gibbs told him quietly.

"Tell….T…ony….so…rry." Tim tried again to speak but the burning agony ripped into him with a vengeance as Jimmy silently and firmly applied a fresh towel to his wound. "AAAHHH!" he screamed.

"So sorry, Tim." Jimmy offered on a shaky breath.

"I know it's painful, lad and we are sorry, but we can't have you losing any more blood and what did I tell you about talking" Ducky soothed as he explained.

"OH MY GOD! TIMMY! WHAT HAPPENED?" Abby's piercing shriek was as painful for all of them as the pure agony clearly heard within it.

Tony seemed to have been broken from his own frozen state of shock at Abby's arrival, taking the half-dozen steps over to her so he could pull her into a firm, comforting embrace. He held her tightly as tears continued to pool in his guilt ridden eyes.

"It's my fault, Abby. I was careless and stupid. My gun slipped, hit the floor and went off."

"You shot Timmy?" Abby cried in horror and pulled back to glare at Tony accusingly. Pure fury flowed through her and she drew her arm back to strike out at the person that had hurt her best friend.

"ABBY!" Gibbs growled in her ear as he grabbed her arm and held onto it before she could use it. "You need to calm down. It was an accident! Even McGee knows that."

"Gibbs!" Abby cried as she dropped her hand and buried her head in his shoulder, crying out her hurt and worry for her friend.

"Medics are on their way up." Vance's voice came from just behind Gibbs, his voice was solemn and non-judgmental, and filled with both compassion and concern for both the injured and the emotionally distraught people in front of him.

Tony looked up and locked eyes with Director Vance asking silently if he could go to the hospital with Tim. Vance didn't answer and watched as the paramedics arrived and ran over to Tim to start assessing him and preparing him for transport.

With time being of the essence, it was mere minutes, before the team of medics along with Ducky and Jimmy were hurrying back toward the elevator with Tim strapped to the gurney. An iv had been inserted into the hand on the side he had been shot, whilst the other arm was strapped to his side, keeping him from removing either the oxygen mask from his face or fighting the hands now holding the temporary bandaging on his wound in place. Once the elevator doors closed behind the medics and Tim, Gibbs, Ziva and Abby bolted for the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator to come back up for them.

"What are you waiting for? Go on!" Vance finally answered Tony's request. "We'll meet up there. Be prepared to answer some very difficult questions about your weapon being unsecured inside of this building, Agent DiNozzo!" Turning to the Agent that had been silently standing by witnessing the entire drama, Vance barked out his next order. "Agent Colburn go with him, get his preliminary statement at the hospital. By the book, people!"

Tony nodded his thanks and silently turned to follow Colburn, his face awash in guilt and worry for the person that had become not only his colleague, but one of his closest friends over the years. His little brother.

God, please don't let him die!